


Four Songs

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minor experiment at writing some very short pieces of fiction inspired by music. In order: a merry game; a grim make-believe; a mysterious discovery; a house constructed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Songs

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to try my typing hand at this meme where you listen to 10 random songs and write short pieces of fiction while listening to them, and you have until the song ends to do that.
> 
> But no, this wouldn't work. Instead I just kind of used each song as a basis to think a very basic skeleton of a premise and then flesh it out in peace. Sorry, but I just can't stand unpolished prose. So it's not exactly like the meme; rather, a short exercise inspired by the meme.
> 
> And then I reviewed the selection and culled the bad ones, so only 4 remain.

**1\. Festival of Stars – Chrono Trigger soundtrack**

"Over there, John!" Jade grabbed the bespectacled boy, who was enthralled by the merriment of the carnival, and dragged him through the small crowd gathered around a strength tester machine.

The operator looked at the new arrival. "So eager to try the device, boy? You might have a hard time with these flabby muscles of yours, but anyone is free to try!" He gave John the hammer and pointed to a lever. "Strike this, see how strong you are, and you may very well win a prize for your cute companion!" Jade giggled.

"Okay," John began, "but I will use my own hammer."

"Oh? Fine... The rules do not forbid this. Then take it out and..."

"This hammer", John said simply and got his weapon out of the Sylladex. The crowd gasped. Even Jade was taken aback: "You kept this from the Medium? The... Fear No Anvil?"

A minute later, they were walking away, Jade happily hugging the top prize, a giant-sized Squiddle almost as large as her.  


* * *

  
**2\. Flight of the Bumblebee**

The beach looked so beautiful; amidst the golden sand, here and there colorful shells flashed, and down beyond the cliff was the surface of the ocean – blue, relaxing, lustre. A majestic whale was swimming within, inviting with its smile.

"Go on!" the beautiful mermaid behind him urged. "Dive!"

The young troll eagerly proceeded forward. Only one thing spoiled the mood: a tiny voice in the back of his head was telling him lies, claiming the inviting ocean to be a web and painting the whale the colors of an enormous spider, and pointing out the mermaid's misshapen and grimly familiar horns.

But the youngster threw away these niggling doubts and threw himself down into the water. It seemed strangely sticky when he touched down, and a moment later it didn't look like water at all.

The spidermom aimed carefully and brought her leg down on the newest victim. She always killed them; she'd never eat anyone _alive_. That would be cruel and brutal, and she had a kid to take care of; she had to set a good example.  


* * *

  
**3\. In Tents – Duke Nukem 3D soundtrack**

Aradia, armed with a flashlight, glanced around the newest discovery with typical archaeological curiosity.

Another ancient temple, devoted presumably to incomprehensible gods and ruthless forces of nature, or whatever people of that era believed. But in the middle, there was the most interesting feature: a stack of some colorful objects. Presumably more of these mysterious Artifacts, which the few trolls aware of their existence pointed out as evidence of extraplanetary beings visiting Alternia in forgotten prehistory. Of course, now that the Alternian Empire ruled several star systems and a multitude of sentient species, the word "aliens" did not excite as much as it presumably did a thousand or two years ago, so not many paid attention to these theories.

Aradia inspected the stash. It seemed to be a collection of primitive idols; each of them a likeness of some semi-humanoid entity, carved – no; sewn in plush. Years have darkened the colors, but the shapes were still recognizable. The figures had extraordinarily long noses, disproportionately jutting out buttocks, and apparently no arms.

And strangely, even though in years of exploring she's gotten used to the eerie – these primitive depictions still unsettled Aradia. They had an aura of... wrongness around them; as if remnants of some dark rituals, too dark even for the mind of a speaker with the dead.  


* * *

  
**4\. Symphony No. 25 in G Minor – W. A. Mozart**

Crowbar couldn't believe his eyes. Neither could Trace, or Itchy, or others. Every single of the 14 men stared, spellbound, at the spectacle before their eyes. (But not Snowman, who seemed disinterested, bored even.) Each of them routinely did the impossible himself, but what was unfolding now was unlike anything they'd seen before.

Doc Scratch – standing in front of what was a few minutes ago an empty clearing on the outskirts of an old burnt forest – looked like an orchestra conductor; his arms moved left to right, up and down, now in smooth motion, now brusquely.

And the bricks, the wood, the glass, all floating in a formless maelstrom, obeyed him; where he pointed, they settled in perfect discipline. There, a small vortex of stone formed an ornament over the window which, too, assembled itself a moment ago; elsewhere, a balcony emerged from a dance of planks and metal bars. Before their eyes, a humungous mansion rose, piece by piece; and as every bit fell into place, it turned a deep green.

"That will be the Felt Manor," announced Scratch without interrupting his work. "Here you will live, serve and obey your master – and, obviously, reap the profits you deserve."

"But why is it green?" someone asked.

"Too bright. It hurts my eyes," complained another.

Doc answered, "It is the mightiest color of the spectrum. It is the color of Guardians; and thus, mine. It is the color of omnipotence; and it shall also be your color..."

They shouted in surprise as their clothes and bodies lost old shades, replaced by bright green.

"...From now on, you are no longer mere gangsters, tricksters wasting their commendable mastery of time-space on petty personal gain and hilarity. You have a new purpose: small, yet vital cogs in the fate of the entire universe. There is no turning back."


End file.
